


Entry 38

by deltau



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Bubbline, Car Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Hardcore Sex, Marceline's Journal, One Shot, Prequel, Rock Bands, Romance, Smut, Strap-Ons, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltau/pseuds/deltau
Summary: One shot. Marceline thinks she’ll never be able to move on from Bonnibel despite being the one who broke it off. But she’d sure as hell try.Slightly related to my other AU "Come Through."





	Entry 38

**Author's Note:**

> You could call this a prequel to Come Through. I've had this for a while but never had the time to edit until now. Hope you enjoy this pr0n with plot.

* * *

 

 

Three hours to go. Three hours to rest. For the last 24 hours, she only had a 27-minute nap which she took greedily in between band practice and meet and greets. She guessed she looked like shit.

But she felt amazing.

The high she got from last night’s crowd was still in her veins along with the alcohol from the after party. It was pretty clear to her that she would not be using those three hours to sleep. Not when she was feeling like riding the hype and writing something down.

For her, the words were the difficult part. Their fans would be surprised. The mood in their songs was only intensified by the words that Marceline sang. The melody always came naturally, but the lyrics were her struggle.

Hence, they would be nothing without her journal. A creative like her had a complicated emotional prism that made her constantly seek catharsis. Writing things down was one outlet. Composing lyrics got a little easier once she could look back at certain moments in her life like an outsider.

So Marceline pulled out her suitcase underneath her bunk bed and fished for her journal, her second one this year. She was that prolific lately with everything that’s been happening to the band. Everything went by so fast, she never had the opportunity to take a breath and properly take it all in. The three hours she had before the next show seemed a good opportunity to do that.

She thumbed through the entries with a growing smile on her face. The more recent ones were all happy memories. Getting signed at a major label. Meeting the bands that they looked up to—actually opening for them at tours. Fans screaming the words to their songs. Bongo, their drummer, getting featured in a music mag as The Scream Queens’ “deadly drummer”. It went on for several entries until Marceline noticed a few blank pages that led her to an entry she made six months ago.

Entry 38. September 7, 2013.

_This isn’t easy to write but I have to put this shit down. I am breaking up with Bonnie._

Marceline’s smile fell off her face. She remembered everything.

 

* * *

 

September 7, 2013.

 

It wasn’t like her to be so forward, so wanton.

She wasn’t called by others _princess_ for nothing. She could calm a room with masterful diplomacy, put a man in his place with her frank intelligence, and soothe an ill-tempered Marceline who would stubbornly hold her ground after an argument. All it took was composed logic and her natural charm. It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, but she was never the immodest kind. “Concupiscence” she’d called it once while Marceline stripped her of clothing, attuned to her every breath and word since she rarely talked during sex (at least, not in english), so Marceline had to pay close attention if she were to properly fuck her girlfriend into a coma.

Nearly a year into their relationship, it was clear by now that any invitation to sex should be preluded by an activity that took Bonnibel out of the world of the subatomic. It could be as simple as Marceline singing a song for her with a guitar or taking her to a gallery. Art was always a good lure for her to get out of her science cave. Sometimes she got too mired in it that extended foreplay was a must, not that Marceline minded. Although on that front, she had a feeling that today was going to be different.

It wasn’t at all like her to send dirty text messages. That was more of Marceline’s thing. Heck, she’d even attempted to get Bonnibel to send nudes at some point—the latter was engrossed in school work for a couple of weeks, leaving Marceline bereft with her absence—to which Bonnibel responded by sending photos of naked gay men in pure spite and ignored her (and her increasingly angry texts) for days for being “distasteful”.

So it was a complete surprise when she woke up to her phone beeping in a distinct tune which meant the message could only be from her girlfriend, asking her if she could come pick her up as soon as she could. That was fine, she could do that—it was much better than being ignored, even if she was still mad at her (and groggy). But then it was followed by something in German. She had to Google Translate it. The resulting translation made her gape at her phone for a solid minute, scramble out of bed for a quick shower and put on her street clothes. There was also a text from Keila saying that she had exciting news, but Marceline thought it could wait as she wiggled into her boots and grabbed her keys.

Then she stood in the garage looking at her dad’s all American fleet. The man was always away in the latter half of the year, probably some place where it was perpetually summer to carry out his soul-sucking corporate biz. All the better for Marceline; she had five options and she had to pick carefully. An Erik Buell, a restored Mustang, a Cadillac, and a Lincoln Navigator. Her own Rover was the only foreigner in the bunch.

She decided to go for the black ’67 Mustang, the car she drove on first dates (hoping to convey allure and sex appeal, and it _worked_ ). It was a heavily tinted two-door beast. Just what she needed.

Her palms were sweaty with anticipation as she held the steering wheel, giving herself a once-over. She was in her usual jeans and boots combo, but she wore something else that bulged conspicuously under her zipper. She stretched her t-shirt down to cover it. If Google Translate was accurate, then she wouldn’t making a fool of herself for packing.

To think that just last night she had been adamant in deciding to cool things off with Bonnibel. The girl was notoriously unavailable and it strained on Marceline’s patience. Sometimes all she wanted to do was bail and leave her pretty ass just to get even. But the promise of mind-blowing sex all but shattered that resolve.

She was at Bonnibel’s dorm now, a large art deco complex a block away from the university. It was just like her to live near school where the labs were despite the fact that her family lived in the same city.

She brought the car at a stop in front of the gates and texted Bonnibel that she was here, wondering for a moment if she was too early, too eager to arrive. But Bonnibel replied right away saying that she was on her way out.

A few minutes later, Bonnibel emerged from the gate, her beautiful impassive face in barely there makeup, dressed in a coral pink form-fitting halter and white pleated skirt that fell just a few inches above her knees, her blonde hair in a perfectly messy bun. Marceline chewed on her knuckles as she stared at the bombshell approaching her car. Bonnibel’s impressive IQ certainly didn’t rob her of a great fashion sense, and she knew exactly what to wear to put emphasis on her curves when she was in the mood. Apparently, she was in such mood now.

She slipped into the passenger seat, and immediately the privacy that ensconced them both pulled Marceline into a mood that made her want to give Bonnibel a piece of her mind. The heavy rumble of the Mustang provided a buffering backdrop to the tension that started to rise. Marceline’s heart was pounding in her chest, a mixture of both anger and desire for her passenger. She gazed at the blonde intently, taking in her form sitting just a few inches away from her, separated only by the last bit of patience Marceline had. She wanted to snap at her and tear her clothes off at the same time, either way was a tempting punishment for always being placed at the back burner.

Yet here she was all the same, not sparing a second to even ask why. Sure she was unemployed, fresh from graduating college, but her musical ambitions were top priority now. She was determined to sleep through the day and compose face-melters at night when her creative juices were at its peak, but _well_ , how easily she could be summoned at _10 in the morning_ , and the girl beside her knew just the right way to do it.

Bonnibel smiled at her in an unreadable way, impervious to the chaos in Marceline’s mind.

“Hi Marceline,” she said, glancing up momentarily as she pulled down her seatbelt.

No apology in sight. So this was the game, to act like their argument last night and Bonnibel’s text this morning didn’t pull her apart in a hundred different directions. Marceline leaned back against her seat, a wrist perched on the steering wheel, trying to act cool.

“Hey babe.”

She hoped the girl wouldn’t notice the anomaly in her jeans just yet. She She sat still as a rock and stopped herself from shifting in her seat when Bonnibel leaned over to kiss her.

“Thanks for picking me up. Can we go to that spot in the hills?”

It was classic Bonnibel. Even, clipped and direct to the point, especially when she was bursting with emotion. To Marceline, she came off as composed, enough to sound bossy even.

So Marceline simply nodded and drove, refusing to show her incredulity at Bonnibel’s demeanor. The girl was content to stare out of her window at the buildings that lined the road on the way, making herself seem impenetrable, as if her request this morning didn’t make Marceline’s palms sweat.

They were quiet on the way until Bonnibel switched the stereo on, filling the car with a heavy track unfamiliar to Bonnibel’s ears. It was one of their demos that they sent to a few record labels several months ago. Marceline could feel Bonnibel’s curiosity pique when Marceline’s vocals came on, noting that she had never heard their new stuff before. She hadn’t been to any of their shows lately.

Marceline shrugged to herself and ignored the thought for now. Feelings could wait. Fucking her suddenly available girlfriend could not.

They finally arrived at the spot. Marceline parked a foot away from the railing. It was a small open strip of land overlooking a cliff, a gap between trees along a forested road that led further up the hills. It jutted out towards the valley below them and was far enough from the road to provide a little privacy. A lot of Marceline’s friends came here at night to get messed up, but it was still too early to worry about bumping into anyone here.

Marceline cleared her throat awkwardly and lowered the stereo volume.

“Hi baby.” Bonnibel finally, properly greeted her softly with an apologetic look. It was as if a mask had fallen away, and that was enough to placate Marceline. Bonnibel held her in a sincere gaze before leaning in to kiss her, and this time Marceline felt the softness of her girlfriend’s lips, the buttery whiff of her lotion as she traced her fingers on Marceline’s collarbone.

Marceline doesn’t say anything but responds by cupping Bonnibel’s nape, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, index finger rubbing the delicate flesh behind Bonnibel’s ear while she slipped her tongue inside the girl’s mouth. It opened up to accommodate the welcome intrusion, drawing out an encouraging moan.

Bonnibel tried to kiss back as fiercely as she could, but Marceline subdued her easily. She hungrily bit her lips and made occasional thrusts of her tongue, forcing Bonnibel into submission. Bonnibel let her. Then she trailed her mouth down her cheek and further down to the sensitive skin of her neck.

Marceline’s hands began to wander lower, but Bonnibel gently held her wrists, stopping her hands from squeezing their intended targets. She pulled away just enough to catch Marceline’s darkened eyes.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for being a bitch. I miss you.” Bonnibel whispered against her lips.

Marceline nodded and was about to say that it was okay, until Bonnibel started yanking up her top .

“I want to show you how sorry I am,” she said breathlessly while she pulled it over her head to reveal a lacy pink bra that deliciously encased her breasts and pushed them up closer together. The cups were sheer enough to reveal her dusk-colored nipples that already stiffened with anticipation. Marceline licked her lips involuntarily as she squeezed a breast, loving the way she could barely grasp it whole. Her breaths became shallow. It’s either the bra was new or Bonnibel was saving it for a special occasion, since Marceline had never seen it before, wouldn’t even expect it of Bonnibel who from personal knowledge only had opaque underwear.

“I can see that.” Marceline said under her breath as she took in the mind-numbing view: her utterly beautiful girlfriend topless, arching her back to accentuate her chest as she was being touched, in underwear that was meant to be ripped off.

Marceline went to work and pulled the lacy cups down to the underside of Bonnibel’s breasts so she could put her mouth on a nipple, kissing it and caressing it with her lips before her tongue sneaked out to lick it, flicking over it, eliciting small erotic noises from Bonnibel. Marceline was feeling aroused herself, but she wanted to take care of Bonnibel first. Her hand crept up her girlfriend’s skirt as her demonic tongue paid attention to the other breast with the same frantic pace and gusto. Bonnibel always loved to be licked thoroughly, loved to feel Marceline’s teeth scrape gently over her nipples, to be squeezed and pawed at with rough, unforgiving hands. It lubricated her enough to soak her through her panties…

But as Marceline’s fingers trailed up Bonnibel’s hip, she realized that her girlfriend wasn’t wearing any. She moaned lowly.

“Backseat, now.” Marceline growled.

“Let me go down on you first.” Bonnibel protested, the statement so foreign in her mouth that Marceline’s eyes widened.

“Believe me, you’re doing that later. But your message this morning gave me the impression that you wanted this.”

Marceline squeezed the strap on through her jeans so Bonnibel could see its outline against the fabric. It was Bonnibel’s turn to be intrigued, as if she thought Marceline wouldn’t have actually worn it. When she texted this morning, they were still technically fighting and giving each other some headspace, so she didn’t want to get her hopes up today.

But Marceline, true to her nature, did as Bonnibel requested. Others would be surprised to find that the musician had a seemingly endless supply of chivalry which she’d demonstrated numerous times; like picking up a few things for her at 4am and delivering them to the lab while she worked overtime, burying her lab rat Science when he died of old age, because she couldn’t bear to touch his lifeless body, and going shopping with her at stores that had too much pink for Marceline’s liking. All of her flaws were dwarfed by it. Bonnibel felt extremely indebted and incredibly guilty.

But Bonnibel wasn’t about to get emotional now that her girlfriend was eyeing her hungrily, with a strap-on in her jeans about to bring one of her sexual fantasies to life, one she didn’t care to admit to until today in a seemingly desperate move to patch things up with her.

So Bonnibel bit her bottom lip and nodded at Marceline’s command. She climbed over the gear shift, intentionally giving Marceline an unobstructed confirmation that indeed she was utterly naked underneath her skirt, her plump nether lips already glistening with arousal. The musician followed suit and shuffled her limbs awkwardly over the center console. With some forethought, she slid the driver’s and the passenger’s seat closer to the dashboard to free up space in the back. Then she settled on the carpeted floor, kneeling to take in the sight before her.

Bonnibel was lying on her side, but her torso was twisted up for Marceline to see, and her legs were closed. It would have looked prim if not for her breasts which were still exposed, spilling from the lacy cups and shining moistly from Marceline’s mouth. The skirt was just long enough to cover her pussy, like a prize she wanted Marceline to open for herself.

Bonnibel smiled smugly at the intensity in Marceline’s eyes. “I didn’t want to stain the seat with how wet you made me.”

“Screw the seat,” Marceline husked as her hands pried Bonnibel’s legs apart. She climbed onto the seat, grateful that it was low enough to give her space to sit on her haunches without crouching her torso too much. Bonnibel’s earlier position had spread her own arousal on her thighs as Marceline held her down with her knees. Gently, she stroked her thumb over and over Bonnibel’s hardened clit, deliciously pink and shiny and all wet for her.

Bonnibel gasped beneath Marceline as she squeezed her own breasts, bucking her hips in desperation as Marceline began to slowly tease her opening with two fingers, coaxing the silky lips gently with maddening restraint. Bonnibel expelled a sharp breath with every stroke, pleading with her eyes for more. Suddenly Marceline slapped her clit with the back of her fingers, producing a squelching sound. Bonnibel jerked in surprise and sucked in a breath. “More, I need more. Please.”

Marceline had a devious smile on as she stalled and went back to teasing Bonnibel’s nether lips, this time more firmly, intentionally pressing her fingers so that every stroke made the occasional near-entry into Bonnibel’s pussy, trailing carelessly over her clit. It made Bonnibel tremble in expectation, only to be frustrated as she remained unfilled. She let go of her own breast and yanked Marceline’s wrist deeper. Marceline laughed darkly and resisted.

“For someone who makes people wait all the time, you sure are impatient.” She remarked in a playful tone, careful not avoid being too serious lest it ruin the mood, even if it was entirely true.

Bonnibel glared at her, still wrapped up in frustration and stymied release. “I would seriously be walking out if I wasn’t so turned on right now and if we weren’t up in the hills—”

“And if you were wearing panties,” Marceline supplied insolently.

Bonnibel rolled her eyes and said through gritted teeth.“Yes, and _that_. But as I do need to apologize to you properly,” she began toying with Marceline’s zipper. “I’ll be a good girl.”

She looked up at Marceline, her irritation dissipating as affection replaced it. A feeble offer: “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. ”

For a brief moment, there was an instinctual _then come to my shows_ response at the back of Marceline’s brain. But it passed by quickly enough to never reach her lips as Bonnibel’s eager fingers on the zipper of her jeans cleared away all thought. She was a here and now kind of person after all.

The stiff, flesh-colored toy sprang up when Bonnibel pulled Marceline’s underwear down enough to take it out. She couldn’t help the awkward, almost coy giggle from escaping her lips as her face glowed pink.

“I’m sorry,” She interjected with a laugh. “Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. I’m just surprised at how hot you look.”

“Wait until you see how it actually feels.” Marceline grinned back, noting how the other girl couldn’t stop looking at it with open curiosity. She scooted closer to Bonnibel’s head. The blonde held it in her hand, feeling its girth with her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. She had the thrill of what was coming all over her pretty face. It was the same look she had when she was writing down answers to equations by muscle memory, ones she already solved faster than her hand could write.

Bonnibel glanced up at her momentarily before returning her gaze to the strap-on. “How long have you had this? Have you ever—oh, never mind, never mind.”A light behind her blue eyes had dimmed at whatever thoughts flitted by her mind.

“Shh. We’ll talk later. For now, let’s fuck.” Marceline brushed her thumb across Bonnibel’s lips and begged them to open up. She obliged as the tip of Marceline’s strap-on pressed against her bottom lip.

“Come on, princess. Show me how you can get me hard and wet, hm?” Marceline goaded above her. Bonnibel could only nod numbly as her jaw fell open to let it in. Marceline could see that Bonnibel was unsure, and probably self-conscious by the way her cheeks burned up as she sucked the tip of the strap-on. So Marceline held her face and began thrusting into her mouth. Bonnibel’s eyes widened for a second, clutching at the flexing muscles of Marceline’s thighs, but she opened her mouth and moaned encouragingly. She gagged, but Marceline did not stop her steady pace. Bonnibel could boss her around and wear the pants in the relationship, but Marceline was god in the bedroom.

“That’s it. Choke on it. Good girl.” Marceline muttered as she held Bonnibel’s head, enjoying the sight of the strap-on disappearing into her girlfriend’s throat. Bonnibel moaned and gagged, torn between breathing and allowing Marceline’s face fucking to continue. This time she pushed against Marceline’s abdomen, feebly begging her to stop. She only did so after a few more thrusts.

Bonnibel finally sucked in a breath when Marceline stopped. She looked up at the musician with her tear-streaked face. “M-Marcy—”

“Shut up,” Marceline growled with no trace of mercy. “Open your legs.”

Marceline could see the movement of Bonnibel’s throat when she gulped. The girl nonetheless obeyed and slowly allowed her thighsto fall apart. She was already dripping all over the patent leather upholstery.

“Wider.” Marceline gently pressed Bonnibel’s knees closer to her naked chest, making her pussy gape. Bonnibel’s face flushed even darker at being completely exposed.

“Stay like that,” Marceline commanded as she held Bonnibel’s jaw again. Bonnibel acquiesced quickly and received Marceline’s strap on in her mouth without her earlier apprehension.

Then Marceline buried two fingers inside her, doing so with ease because of Bonnibel’s position and her incredible wetness. Bonnibel moaned against the strap on with delight as Marceline started thrusting—both in her mouth and her pussy.

“Is this what you wanted all along? Is this what you meant by your text?” Marceline said between pants amidst the wet squelching sounds each time her hand slapped against Bonnibel’s nether lips with every thrust.

Bonnibel could only whimper and nod wordlessly while Marceline made her feel utterly filled and on the brink of bursting.

“Who would have thought? Underneath all that nerdy prim and proper image all you wanted was to be disrespected like this.” Marceline laughed. Another slap on Bonnibel’s clit. Bonnibel let out a shriek.

Marceline’s pace steadily increased in force and speed, just the way Bonnibel liked it. Her moans grew louder as Marceline continued to talk her down, telling her how distasteful she was for wanting to be fucked this way, laughing at how Bonnibel couldn’t say anything back because of fake dick in her mouth.

It only turned Bonnibel on even more. Her brow knotted in pleasure—she pulled her mouth away from the strap on and gasped for air.

“Inside me now. Please, baby.” Bonnibel pleaded. She squeezed Marceline’s fingers inside her with her inner walls.

Marceline obliged by taking a seat, her pants still hanging off her thighs.

“Sit on my lap,” Marceline instructed with a tug at her strap on.

Bonnibel’s eyes lit up and she scooted over to Marceline’s lap, opting to face away from her. She had always wondered what it would be like to have sex in this position. She bent over slightly, holding on to the driver’s seat in front of her as Marceline guided her hips over the strap on. But when she finally descended on it, she found it slightly painful. Marceline noticed it from the small gasp that escaped her.

“You alright?” Marceline asked, her lips near Bonnibel’s ear.

“It’s okay, it hurts just a little,” Bonnibel tossed the reassurance over her shoulder.

But Marceline leaned back deeper into the seat, taking Bonnibel with her. She allowed Bonnibel to lean back against her shoulder while the strap on remained inside. She spread Bonnibel’s legs and let them drape over her thighs. The movement was uncomfortable but their new position wasn’t painful anymore.

“Better.” Bonnibel breathlessly told Marceline, whose head was currently pressed against Bonnibel’s side-boob. She looked down on herself and saw that she looked utterly wanton with her legs spread wide with a strapdeep inside her. She loved it.

“But I can’t move if we’re like this.” Bonnibel remarked, noting how she was completely at the mercy of Marceline in this position where she had no leverage whatsoever.

Bonnibel couldfeel Marceline’s grin against her side. “You don’t have to do anything, Bonnibel.”

She then grabbed the back of Bonnibel’s knees and hoisted them up against her bare chest.

Marceline’s hips thrust upward and buried the strap on to the hilt.

“Mein… gott!” Bonnibel gasped involuntarily, head bobbing against the ceiling like a rag doll while Marceline took complete control. While she enjoyed being licked or finger-fucked, she found that there was nothing quite like being completely filled while Marceline could still use her hands to bend her in several different erotic ways like her current obscene and somewhat helpless shape. All she could do was clutch at Marceline’s forearms as her body bounced up and down from the force.

Marceline continued to split her open with steady and forceful thrusts of her hips, grunting with every exertion as Bonnibel moaned with abandon. The Mustang’s engine continued to rumble along with their exclamations, the sound reminding them both that they could get caught anytime if anyone cared to pass by their all too open, all too public tryst.

Marceline’s grip on the back of Bonnibel’s knees was growing tight as her thrusts became harder, her pace growing in increments. She knew Bonnibel liked it just like this, being fucked with enough force to make her body shake. But she had to make Bonnibel finish soon. Although she would have preferred a position that gave her a better view than this, she found it incredibly sexy to be fucking her girlfriend with a strap on, something she didn’t think Bonnibel would consent to, let alone initiate.

Desperate times, she guessed. She liked this kind of apology. She increased her pace, grunting as she felt the burn on her glutes.

“Let’s do this on a proper bed next time, yeah babe?” Marceline panted.

“Mm-hmm. Please let me touch myself,” Bonnibel begged. Usually Marceline would initially forbid her from touching herself. Instead, she let go of Bonnibel’s right knee and used the free hand to slap Bonnibel’s hardened clit.

“Ah! Please!” Bonnibel cried out in surprise and her nails dug deeper into Marceline’s arms.

“Please, I’ll be a good girl after you let me come I promise.” She bargained desperately.

“You promise?” Marceline growled. Another slap.

“Y-yes! I’ll do anything!”

“Then touch yourself.”

Bonnibel’s right hand immediately let go of Marceline and went straight for her clit. It was Marceline’s cue to thrust deeper into her. Bonnibel gasped loudly as pleasure bombarded her entire form, every stroke sending electric shocks through her body. A few more strokes at her clit and she cried out as she came, bouncing her hips erratically up on Marceline’s lap as she rode out her orgasm.

“Oh my god…” Bonnibel trailed off in a heap above Marceline. She put a hand over her forehead in what looked like disbelief at what they’d just done.

Marceline chuckled smugly. She hoisted Bonnibel’s petite form off her own, careful to pull out slowly. Bonnibel gave a small moan before she turned to face Marceline with an enamored gaze.

“Thank you for indulging me. Always.” Bonnibel said breathlessly.

Marceline smiled at her. “I think it was you who did me a favor.” Bonnibel laughed.

“It’s your turn now,” Bonnibel whispered over Marceline’s lips before capturing them in a heated kiss. “Like I promised, I’ll be a good girl and do as you say.” Bonnibel took her hands and placed them over her breasts. The hands eagerly squeezed them.

Marceline grinned happily as she brushed her thumbs over Bonnibel’s nipples. Oh, she had several ideas all right. And judging by the fact that Bonnibel was more than amenable to kicking their sex life up a notch, she had no doubt she was open to try other things.

Marceline removed the strap on and settled more comfortably into the seat. Bonnibel didn’t need to be told what to do. She slid onto the carpet to kneel between Marceline’s legs.

“Finally I can give you a proper apology,” Bonnibel said as she assisted Marceline in pulling her underwear down and taking them off along with her jeans. “I have one last request though."

Marceline was already gripping Bonnibel by the hair. “What’s that?”

Bonnibel smiled up at her deviously before she gave Marceline a teasing lick.

“Will you please come in my mouth?”

 

* * *

 

 

Vampires. Vampires and demons. Fire everywhere, and bananas in a dungeon. She was a queen in a black suit and an axe that looked exactly like her bass…

“Marceline?”

“Bananas.”

A laugh. “Baby we’re here. Wake up”

Marceline pried her eyes open. She was in the passenger seat of her own Mustang. She sat up and turned to look at Bonnibel who was now fully dressed with her hair back in its perfect form. As if she hadn’t messed it all up earlier.

“Oh right, I let you drive.” She muttered to herself and rubbed her eyes. They were parked in front of Bonnibel’s dorm.

“I wasn’t surprised you fell asleep. I did wake you up ‘early’.” Bonnibel made air quotation marks with a cheeky grin.

“So what, now you’re just gonna leave after I fucked you senseless?” Marceline grinned wryly.

“Senseless? Well I’m not the one who fell asleep after coming _three_ times!” Bonnibel laughed at her. “You got so tired you had to let me drive—”

“Hey I thought you were apologizing here!” Marceline laughed along and grabbed Bonnibel by the waist to kiss her.

Bonnibel melted into her and kissed back. “Would you like me to apologize some more?” She whispered. Her hand creeped up Marceline’s leg and began fingering her zipper.

Marceline shivered and made no move to stop her. She was completely spent from all the sex but her gorgeous girlfriend made her insatiable.

“I’m starting to like this apologetic Bonnibel. She’s surprisingly kinky.”

Bonnibel leaned in further into the kiss. “Mm-hmm. I’ll be leaving you with a souvenir too.”

“What?” Marceline pulled back a little in confusion. Bonnibel giggled at her before she opened her door to step out of the car. She peeked into the car one last time and gestured at the seat she just vacated.

“No panties remember?”

“Aw man, this car is gonna smell like you.” Marceline groaned

“Best not let your dad use it then.” Bonnibel retorted gleefully and shut the door.

Marceline scrambled out of the car and stopped Bonnibel from entering the dorm gates. She grabbed her by the waist and turned her around to face her.

“Can I see you tonight?”

The gleeful expression on Bonnibel’s face faded visibly but her blue eyes grew soft as they gazed into Marceline’s.

“I’m not sure Marcy…”

Marceline bristled. Bonnibel’s grip around her shoulders tightened.

“I’ll do my best to go to your next show, okay?” Bonnibel pressed herself closer. A usual tactic to make it harder for Marceline to disagree with her.

 _But there might not be a next time_ , Marceline thought.

She let herself be pushed against her car as Bonnibel took advantage of her curves and her beautiful face to forestall the storm gathering behind her eyes. But the musician still managed to turn her head away in displeasure. It wasn’t working and Bonnibel noticed.

“Marceline, I told you I’d be busy for two weekends, didn’t I?” Bonnibel reminded her and tried to do so gently, but her tone had an exasperated edge to it. “Didn’t I?”

“Yeah you did,” Marceline conceded quietly, contemplating that perhaps she was the one who was wrong for expecting her girlfriend to come to tonight’s show when she knew for a fact that she’d be busy.

She finally looked Bonnibel in the eye. Those big blue eyes bore steadily into her own with equal parts plaintiveness, seduction and persuasion.

It was a mistake. She suddenly forgot why she was so angry.

The phone in her pocket vibrated, pulling her out of Bonnibel’s spell. She grabbed it and saw another message from Keila, one she couldn’t very well ignore this time since the preview on her home screen said: “TEXT ME BACK OR THIS A&R GUY WON’T…”

 _Holy fuck are we getting signed?_ Marceline thought as rapidly typed in her passcode. _We’re getting signed. We’re getting signed. Holy—_

Bonnibel lowers Marceline’s phone and leans up to capture her lips. Marceline could only put her arms around Bonnibel’s waist and kiss back.When she tried to pull away, Bonnibel yanked her wrists down further to her ass. When she dutifully squeezed a butt cheek, Bonnibel moaned, making Marceline weak in the knees.

It was really unfair how easily her emotions could be manipulated by this girl. They made out deep and slow in a pace Bonnibel controlled, pressing herself into Marceline as the rocker leaned back against the Mustang’s matte black finish.

When Bonnie was tired of standing on tip toe, she pulled away just a little, just enough to breathe and keep Marceline’s attention on her at the same time. “I’ll call you, okay?”

Marceline, out of breath, closed her eyes and bit back a pathetically conceding response. She was in this tight spot again where she felt she had the least freedom. She wanted to say yes to her but she didn’t want to give her another free pass, she wanted to _be_ with her but she loved her music too.

Meanwhile Bonnibel never seemed to have that kind of dilemma. It seemed easy for her to choose her career over everything else, devise a brilliantly calculating scheme to distract a horny Marceline from complaining about her frequent unavailability and manage to get back home in time for class.

The phone vibrated in Marceline’s hand again. Bonnie held her face and pecked her on the lips. “I’ll call you okay baby?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Later that night it was either that Bonnibel forgot to call or she planned to call at dawn or some other ungodly hour. Either way Marceline, ecstatic after meeting the A&R representative and playing a killer set to impress him, was too shitfaced to care.

Their next phonecall a week later was their last.

 

* * *

 

Marceline pressed her thumb and index fingers against her eyes and closed her journal shut. She felt self-conscious all of a sudden even though every one else except the driver was fast asleep in their bunks. The tour bus had been moving at a steady speed for hours now.

“I should have taken a nap instead.” She muttered to herself as she bit back the threat of tears spilling. 

But the words suddenly came to her and begged to be written down. So she grabbed her phone and opened her notes app.

_Let me penetrate and break that superego with my id, it was her crown for all to see and she took it off for me._

 


End file.
